Right or Wrong
by xhere.there.nowherex
Summary: This is slightly OOC, or rather, OOC squared. Out Of Canon and Out Of Control. It's post season 2 finale. Also, a surprise appearance by a character I loved hating! I had a lot of fun writing this!
1. The Run

**Hi. So, the idea for this popped into my head as I was sitting in mass. (Aren't I a good little Catholic girl?) Ha! Anyway, this is not what had originally popped into my head, that scene is coming up in a later chapter, and THEN you will understand why it popped into my head during something _religious_ *cough cough* (this is a hint) *cough cough***

**This bit developed while I was napping, and mostly because I felt as though the scene that I'd envisioned in church needed some leading into. Plus, I'm barely surviving this hellatus.**

**I hope you enjoy this =)**

**Oh, and by the way, I do not own Fringe. Fringe belongs to The WB and FOX and J.J. Abrams and all of his wonderful colleauges. I just wrote this for fun. And trust me, it IS fun. Plus, if I did own Fringe, we'd have lots of POLIVIA babies by now. And they'd be awesome. Although, there is no POLIVIA baby in this story.**

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Olivia sat up in her bed. She blinked and looked bleary-eyed at the clock on her nightstand. Four-thirty in the morning. For whatever reason, her body had decided that this was an appropriate time to wake up. She glanced down at Peter, whose arm was still draped across her waist. He was out cold. She sighed and gently slipped out of bed, so as not to wake him. She silently changed into proper running attire, tied the laces on her sneakers, and closed the door quietly behind her.

When her feet hit the pavement, she let out a heavy breath which released some of the tension she'd been holding onto so tightly. She allowed her mind to wander, but inevitably it began focusing on one subject: the man sleeping somewhat peacefully in her bed. Peter Bishop. Her mind ran through the events of the past four months. Peter's disappearance, her insane drive to get him back, the fearful kiss she'd stolen after she'd told him just how much she needed him, loved him. Then she recalled her captivity. She shuddered, forcing the memory of what that monster had done to her out of her mind. She'd gotten herself out, back to Peter. She was pleased when she came back to find that her alternate self had failed to fool him, even though somewhere deep down she knew that Peter would know. He was like that. She smiled briefly.

As she rounded a street corner she remembered how her alternate self had all of the sudden mysteriously disappeared from DHS protective custody. She was no doubt still in this world, but had not caused any disturbance in the two months that she'd been roaming freely, so to speak, in Olivia's world. Olivia shook her head, forcing her thoughts of her alternate self to scatter. Again her mind focused on Peter. He had apologized profusely upon her return. She could tell he was wracked with guilt. Even though this was not his fault, he still felt responsible. He'd never said as much, but he didn't have to. When she had first returned, it was difficult for her to sleep at night. She was still frightened to some extent over what had happened to her, so she had asked Peter to stay with her. He had eagerly obliged.

It had taken her weeks to get him to actually sleep in her bed. It was almost as though he was afraid to touch her, like he was scared that he would hurt her, or that she might break. Maybe at first she may have, but now she was back to feeling like herself, and she wanted him, sorely. Still, he hadn't made a move past telling her that he loved her, which is most likely why she was out running at five in the morning. Her frustration grew more immensely unbearable with each day and each night that passed without so much as a suggestion to something other than just sleeping in her bed. "Fuck it," she thought, "It is my turn to make a move. His balls are going to be in my court, whether he likes it or not." She turned in the direction of her apartment, and was decidedly going to wake Peter up and give him the righteous fucking he deserved.

She opened the door to her apartment, this time not caring whether or not she woke Peter. Not that it mattered, because there he was, standing in her kitchen, fumbling around with the coffee maker. "Hi," Olivia uttered as her brow furrowed. He was up, showered, and dressed. She checked the clock: 5:37. It was not like Peter to be up and moderately functioning so early. He answered her question before she'd even asked, "Broyles called. We've got a case." Olivia groaned. Fantastic. So much for her sex. Peter smiled at her, "You'd better go get in the shower, he's expecting us within the hour." As she crossed to her bedroom, she muttered mostly to herself, "I wish you'd waited for me." He must've heard her, because he riposted, "Oh, sweetheart, if I'd waited, we'd never be out of that shower in an hour." She glared at him. She was riled up and he was teasing her. It was so unfair. Although, this was the first suggestive thing he'd said to her in a while. Her fierce look softened into a smile, and she laughed softly as she stripped naked and walked slowly, very slowly, into the bathroom. She was teasing him right back. Her skin tingled and grew warm under the intensity of his stare.

After she was dressed, he handed her the keys to her SUV and a travel mug full of coffee. "Thanks," she said in a sultry voice, as she grabbed his collar and pulled him into a passionate kiss. Several seconds later, he pulled back. "Olivia," he said, opening the door, "we have to go." Her teeth clenched and her nostrils flared slightly as she let out an angry breath. There was no way in hell she was going to let him fall asleep tonight without first satisfying her deep desire. She grabbed his hand as they walked down her hall and out of her building to her SUV.

He looked at her as they got into the vehicle. "Are you alright, Dunham?" he asked her hesitantly. "Yeah, fine," she lied. She was far from fine. She would have jumped him right then and there had she thought he would have been receptive. But somewhere in her mind, a voice was telling her that it wasn't a good idea. They both had a sense of responsibility, and a case that was waiting to be explored. He accepted her lie for the moment, deciding that now was not the time to push her buttons. "Do you ever feel sorry for Astrid sometimes?" His question surprised her. The topic was one of the furthest things from her mind right now. "You mean, because she has to stay with your father?" she chuckled slightly as she tried to clarify. "Yeah," he laughed back, "it's not exactly what she signed up for when she joined the bureau." She looked at Peter, answering his question candidly, "To be honest, I don't think she minds. Sometimes, I think she even enjoys it. You know, he's really not that bad." She smiled at Peter. He returned the smile as he shook his head, looking out the window, "No, he's not." "Anyway," Olivia continued, "I've insisted that Broyles give her a raise." They laughed. "Good," Peter stated, "If anyone deserves a raise, she does."


	2. The Case

Olivia parked her SUV next to Broyles'. Peter leaned in and kissed her cheek before they got out. She smiled and squeezed his hand. This was their first official case in months. They had been working, but mostly it had consisted of endless hours of in the lab trying to figure out how to stop the impending war. Olivia and Peter walked up to Broyles. They stood separate. Although everyone knew about their relationship, they still retained a level of professionalism and were discreet while they worked. Olivia assumed that was part of the reason bureau policy hadn't been waved in her face in protest, that and the fact that both she and Peter were extremely valuable to Fringe Division. "So," Olivia got down to business, "what've we got?" Broyles opened his mouth to answer, but was abruptly cut off by an eager voice. "Astrid told me there's a body?" Walter came rushing up, followed by Astrid, who followed briskly.

"Yes," Broyles explained, "Female. Twenty-two years of age. Found early this morning by a couple walking their dog." He paused before he added, "It's bad." Olivia swallowed hard. "May I take a look?" Walter questioned enthusiastically. Peter and Walter momentarily locked eyes, but both quickly looked elsewhere. It wasn't that they weren't okay with each other. It was just that things were still a little tense and a bit awkward between them. Peter was still struggling to work out what had happened. It took a good amount of restraint for Olivia to not reach out and take his hand to comfort him, reassure him that it was okay. Broyles gave Walter a nod, and he sauntered off to examine the body. Astrid uttered a quick "Good morning" and tailed Walter, carrying his forensics kit. "Apparently not for her," Olivia muttered. Peter looked at Broyles, "Do we know who she is?" "We ran her ID; name is Sarah Daggs, lives in Brighton. She's a call girl, working out of a nightclub in the city called 'Taser'. They're known for their," he paused, and added emphasis, "questionable business practices. Several of their employees have gone missing over the past three months, but none have turned up until now."

Olivia just nodded and walked over to where Walter and Astrid were crouched over one of the most brutalized corpses she had ever seen. She grimaced, and felt Peter rest his hand on her shoulder fleetingly. He knew that this bothered her, after what she'd been through. "Do you have any idea what happened to this girl, Walter?" Olivia asked softly. He looked up at her, "Well, it appears she's been severely beaten, and mauled by at least one dog, which is most likely what killed her; however, she has also had something injected into the base of her neck. I won't know what it is until I run some tests at my lab." "Alright, let's get her transported back to the lab then," Peter offered. He went to tell Broyles they needed the body taken to the lab. He walked back over, and looked at Olivia. They both knew he'd have to go with Walter and Astrid to the lab, and that she'd have to go back to the office to gather any and all information on their victim. He smiled at her as he told her, "I'll call you if we find anything." She simply nodded and headed back to her SUV.

Olivia sat behind her desk, glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, pouring over file after file, looking for something, anything. So far all she'd garnered was that the owner of the club, a man by the name of Russell Norton, had been in and out of prison countless times over the past decade. He was of average intelligence, so if he was involved in these numerous disappearances, he was most likely working for somebody. She looked over his personal expense records. He had just purchased a new home worth 2.1 million dollars. She then checked the expense records for his nightclub. Nothing out of the ordinary upon first glance, aside from the fact that he'd just spent several hundreds of thousands of dollars on equipment from a company called 'Insidian'. She'd never heard of the company, so she looked them up. Their website boasted of state-of-the-art technology that was on the brink of the newest scientific discoveries. They weren't cheap. She looked over his records again. His club was turning a profit, but not so substantial one as to afford him a new home and expensive tech. She glanced at the time. It was nearing twelve. She still hadn't heard from Peter. Checking out this Norton character seemed to her like a good excuse to steal him away from the lab and have him all to herself for a bit.

"Hey," she knocked softly on the door to Broyles' office as she entered, "I think I found something." When she finished explaining, Broyles gave her the go ahead to check out the nightclub. She hesitated before asking, "Have you heard from Peter?" He shook his head, "No, but I've had Jessup at the lab all morning and she's been reporting back to me. Apparently when they removed the victim's clothing, it revealed she'd been tased all over her body, which I'm sure is no coincidence." Olivia stared at Broyles, and spoke indignantly, "Jessup? Amy Jessup? You've had her in the lab while I've been here?" He wasted no time in his response, "Dunham, you're the better agent. I needed you here. She's still learning. I felt that spending time in the lab would be a good learning experience for her. Now, I suggest you follow your lead." He dismissed her. She stormed out of his office, and out of the building. She was furious, not only with Broyles for just now informing her that Jessup was back, and then rudely dismissing her from his office, but also with Peter. She'd been slaving over this case for five hours and he hadn't called once.

She slammed her car door shut, and dialed as the engine roared to life. "Hey, it's me," she spoke tersely into the phone. "Hey," he spoke sweetly, "What's the matter?" Even over the phone he could tell something was bothering her. She heard a loud crash in the background, Astrid shouting "Walter!", and Peter sighing heavily. Some of her rage left her as she realized that Peter had his hands full at the lab and that was probably why he hadn't had a change to call her. "Nothing," she sighed, "I'm just going to check out this lead that I've found." "You want me to come with you?" He asked earnestly. She considered turning his question into an innuendo, but decided against it, "No, I've got it handled. I'll be fine. I just wanted to see if Walter had found anything?" "Well," he told her, "it appears that the injection she received in the base of her neck was an incredibly high dose of adrenaline. Walter seems to think that it was a means of torturing her prior to her death." He paused, then added worriedly, "Be careful, Olivia, please." She laughed as she told him, "I will, Peter." He added quickly, "I love you." "I love you too," she smiled as she hung up. Fifteen minutes later she pulled up in front of the nightclub, and an ominous feeling washed over her as she entered the doors of the establishment.

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**Say hello to Agent New Girl! I know some of you are going to hate me for this. Even part of me hates me for putting her in here. But she was just too ridiculously stupid and annoying to forget. And as I was sitting in church, she and her religious fanaticism concerning the Fringe Division cases crossed my mind. Have no fear, she's no threat to the POLIVIA. I just want to play around with her for a bit, because I love hating her.**

**On the other hand, I know there are a few (gotta be at least one, right?) people out there who liked her, and thought she had potential. So, those people can like this. **

**Just trust that I know what I'm doing. Chapter three has been started. Hopefully it will be done soon. But it's after 11:30pm here, and I have to be up at 6:00am for work tomorrow. **


	3. The Labs

**Okay, so I forgot to mention this last chapter, but I have this weird fascination with tasers, so I apologize for that. Blame it on the criminal justice class I took last semester.**

**Also, I absolutely adore Dollhouse, so I just had to go there. You'll see. If you've never seen Dollhouse (shame on you, because Whedon is a GENIUS) then you won't get it.**

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"Hello," she murmured as she wondered through the empty nightclub. No answer. It appeared as though no one was there. However, she heard faint noises coming from somewhere in the building. As she quietly padded across the floor of the night club, she noticed that the floor beneath sounded hollow. She looked around, and sure enough found a door hidden behind a mural behind the bar. She descended a narrow flight of stairs, gun at the ready. She ended up in a magnificent lab. She looked around and noticed the high tech computers, with innumerable buttons and switches the likes of which she had never seen before. Monitors displayed data that was completely lost on her. Walter would have been in his glory here. When she surveyed the rest of the lab, her stomach somersaulted. There before her eyes were all of the people that had gone missing over the past three months from the club. They were in strange looking cages, and appeared to be sleeping, or rather, unconscious. She immediately dialed Broyles on her cell, requesting back up, but before she could explain, she felt an icy hand on the back of her neck. The phone dropped to the floor.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a syringe. She knew instantly that the hand holding it would try to plunge it into the base of her neck. Thank God she had called Peter before coming here. Before the owner of the hand had the chance to stab the needle into her, she reached behind her and grabbed the hand's wrist. She twisted forcefully and heard a loud cracking noise. She had successfully broken this person's wrist. Satisfied, with all of her momentum she tossed the body over her and it came crashing to the floor. It was a man dressed in a white lab coat and glasses. He was whimpering in pain. She placed a foot on his chest and motioned to the syringe. "Toss it," she ordered. It rolled across the floor, and she kicked it under one of the computer stations. She pulled out her cuffs and placed them on the scientist. "You're under arrest," she growled at him. However, she suddenly found herself on the ground, and as she flipped over she came face to face, and fist to fist, with Russell Norton. Their skirmish ended in a bullet in his leg. He'd be fine, at least he was neutralized. Seconds later, the back-up team she'd requested came bursting into the lab.

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Peter looked at the clock in the lab. It was quarter after three. Olivia had called him over three hours ago, and he hadn't heard from her again. He desperately hoped she was alright. "So," Agent Jessup interrupted his thoughts, "you are really from this," she paused, "other universe?" "Yeah," he nodded. Her curiosity, however endearing, was beginning to get on his nerves. It was still a tender subject and the only person he truly felt comfortable discussing it with wasn't here, and he hadn't heard from her in over three hours. He wondered where she was. "That's fascinating," she mused, mostly to herself. She then pondered what he had told her. For whatever reason, he had decided to explain his entire story to her. Maybe it was that he needed to just explain it all to someone uninvolved so that he could understand it better, or maybe he just wanted to shut up her constant questions. He wasn't sure, and he really didn't care. He looked at the clock again, and checked his phone. Nothing.

Suddenly Jessup turned to him, and placing a hand on his arm, excitedly stated, "You're like a messiah!" He scoffed at her, and his brow furrowed. "No, think about it," she explained, "You slept for three days, and you are supposedly going to lead to the destruction of one world." He laughed at her, "You realize that you have just essentially equated _this_ universe to Hell?" She crinkled her face, "Well, not exactly. Maybe the other universe is the equivalent of Hell, and the Secretary is the equivalent of Satan, and you are supposed to conquer that world and him." "And maybe you should keep your religious hogwash to yourself, Agent Jessup," he just continued laughing at her, but her words tugged at something in the back of his mind. Maybe she had a point. Maybe she was just a foolish young agent. She smiled sardonically and laughed along with him. She was used to getting this reaction out of people whenever she equated religion to her job.

Olivia had entered the lab several minutes earlier, and watched the interaction between Peter and Agent Jessup. The hand on the arm unsettled her. Jessup was a little to touchy feely with Peter, and she was so obviously flirting with him. Apparently no one had informed her that Peter belonged to Olivia and only Olivia. Their shared laughter set her off and she hastily entered the lab. Peter was leaning against the lab table, and had been staring at his feet, still smiling. He looked up when he heard someone enter the lab. "Olivia," his smile widened. She didn't say anything. She stepped between Peter and Jessup, pressed her body against his, essentially straddling his thigh, and kissed him possessively, not caring if it was right or wrong to be doing this in front of Amy Jessup. She stood there, mouth slightly agape.

She cleared her throat, "Agent Dunham, it's nice to see you again." Olivia smiled slightly at the young agent, looked around the lab, then looked back up at Peter, "Where are Walter and Astrid?" Peter had to clear his throat before he could answer, "Uh, Walter got all he could out of the body, so Astrid took him home." He tucked a strand of hair that had fallen out of her disheveled ponytail behind her ear and stroked her cheek. He knew what she was doing. She was marking her territory. She had sensed a threat, and had grown jealous, and was subsequently showing the threat, in this case Jessup, that he was off limits. However this was unnecessary, as he was in no way interested in Amy Jessup, and never had been. He had eyes for only one woman. "So," he asked Olivia, "what happened with that lead?"

Peter listened attentively as she explained that for months, the nightclub had been used as a means to facilitate human trafficking, and that the lab in the basement of the club was used to run tests on the individuals who had been abducted. She told him that the people that she had found had been completely wiped of their memories, and had been trained as fighting machines, or soldiers of some sort. None of them remembered who they were or where they were from. Broyles had them transferred to Massive Dynamic, as it was possible that they might be able to restore these people's minds. Russell Norton and the scientist who had been running the facility were just pawns in a larger scheme. Sarah Daggs had most likely stumbled upon the operation accidentally, and had been killed because of it. The case was far from being closed, but at least two men had been put away.

"Anyway," she concluded, "Broyles gave us the rest of the day off, so I was thinking," she gave him a wry smile, "that you might want to go home with Walter for a bit, so Astrid can have a break." Peter grumbled. She laughed at him as her fingers trailed up and down his chest, "You're the one who said you felt sorry for her." He just looked at her. "Besides," she continued, "I thought that I'd make you dinner." He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Make sure you wear that tie that I like," there was a hint of something in her voice that intrigued him. He wondered what she was up to. "I'll see you later, Peter," she was about to turn and leave, but he pulled her into another kiss. His kiss was deep and passionate and unrestrained. He could play her game. He could let her know that he was hers. She pulled away and straightened herself out before she left. Agent Jessup watched Peter as he watched Olivia leave. "My she's possessive, isn't she?" Amy remarked. Peter laughed again.

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**Okay, I'm super tired right now. I work with children & babies, and I have to be up in five hours to go to work with these children & babies. Chapter four will be written (and hopefully uploaded) tomorrow. It is also the final chapter of this story, but don't be upset, because it is also the smutty chapter. **

**Peace, Love, and Polivia. WORD. **


	4. The Dinner With Dessert

**Oh hello. I am so sorry it took me so long to get this up here. I feel absolutely terrible about that. I had an INSANE week at work, which did not leave me in the mood to write. Mostly, I just came home from work, showered, and passed out.**

**But anyway, I have finally written this. I've been toying with it in my mind for a while now, and finally solidified it during my cousin's commencement. (Hey, I had to entertain myself some way!)**

**So, without further adieu, ENJOY THE SMUTTINESS!**

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It was quarter to seven when Olivia heard the knock on her door. She turned from the stove, where she had been sprinkling filé powder over her chicken and oyster gumbo. It smelled fantastic. While she had been at the store, something in her mind was screaming "Oysters!" at her. She knew instantly what she would make for Peter. It was southern, and warm, with a little spice. Before she headed to the door, she adjusted her dress. It was a slinky little black number that screamed sex. It was dangerously short and clung to her thighs, plus, the neckline plunged to the area just above her navel, showing off just enough of her breasts. She ran one hand through her long blonde hair, and the other slid down her dress arranging the ruched fabric. She had forgone shoes, and panties for that matter. They'd just get in her way. Her feet shuffled softly across the floor of her apartment as she moved to answer to door.

Peter stood anxiously outside of the door to her apartment, flowers in one hand, and chocolate cake in the other. Not to mention the bottle of champagne he had tucked under his arm. He knew exactly what Olivia was going for after her behavior in the lab. He wanted to milk this for as long as he could; he just hoped he wasn't going overboard. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he heard a voice saying "No such thing." He smiled to himself. Suddenly, the door opened and there stood Olivia, looking like sex on toast. He felt his face flush a little, but quickly regained his composure. He looked her up and down, appraisingly. She looked incredible. She was grinning wickedly at him as she uttered a simple, "Come in." With that, his mind instantly went elsewhere, and he had to focus on something to stave off the multitude of images that were pouring into his brain. Something in the air caught the attention of his olfactory senses, and he breathed deeply. Whatever the scent was, it was sublime. "What is that?" he asked her, breathing deeply again. "Chicken and oyster gumbo," she replied as she shut the door. He swallowed. Did she say oysters? Oh God.

Olivia hovered on one foot as the other rubbed the back of her calf, taking his entire appearance in, savoring every bit of it. Her depraved grin widened as he handed her the flowers and stumbled over his words. She bit down on her bottom lip and saw him swallow hard. Quickly, she placed the flowers in a vase, and took the bottle of champagne from beneath his arm, putting it on ice. Her eyes met the chocolate cake, covered in chocolate icing, decorated with strawberries. She bit back a groan. It looked decadent, and she half considered skipping dinner and devouring the cake, along with Peter, immediately. She resisted, and after placing the cake on her counter, she eyed Peter again. Her gaze fell to his tie. She grabbed it and slowly wrapped it around her hand, reeling him into her. His face lingered mere centimeters from hers for several moments before she pulled him into a hot kiss full of passion and tongue.

Peter suppressed a moan the best he was able, thankful that he had slipped out of his shoes as she set the cake on the counter earlier. The cold floor on the soles of his feet grounded him. His hand traveled down the small of her back, lower, until he reached her ass. He squeezed it gently, gasping slightly when he felt nothing between her skin and the dress. She walked him towards the kitchen slightly before breaking away from their kiss. "Hungry?" she muttered seductively. He had a feeling she wasn't talking about dinner. But she was in the kitchen before he realized she'd even moved. He ran a palm down his face trying to collect himself. All through dinner, Olivia had toyed with her fork in her mouth, teasing him more than feeding her. He chatted idly with her, obsequiously praising her obvious talent in the kitchen. His accolades caused her to grin demurely. He gripped the table and let out a heavy breath. He wanted her. She was playing him, he knew it, but it was because she wanted him just as terribly.

He momentarily closed his eyes, trying to hold himself together. This was an altogether new experience for him. Never before had a woman held such a strange power over him. He heard the water run as she placed the dishes in the sink. He swallowed again. He opened his eyes as she seated herself in his lap, using her tongue to play with a strawberry before she consumed it. She then brought her fork to her mouth and bit down into the cake. She pulled it out slowly as he watched. She was absolutely tantalizing. Peter was not at all interested in the cake. He would've rather been devouring her. He brought his finger to her lips, removing a bit of icing that lingered at the corner of her mouth. She drew his finger into her mouth and sucked on it. He let out a loud moan from his core, and she sighed satisfactorily, laughing softly. Olivia downed her glass of champagne and stared at him, a feral and thirsting lust lurking behind her eyes.

Suddenly, she was pulling him out of his chair. She pushed him down hard onto the couch and straddled him. She pressed her lips hungrily to his. He responded by teasing her lips open, exploring her mouth with his tongue. He heard her groaning as she loosened his tie, and pulled it off around his collar. Her hands then began tearing at the buttons of his shirt, and he leaned forward as she eased it off of his shoulders. His hands began exploring her form. He slipped one into her dress, cupping her breast in his hand. He tenderly caressed her nipple, which hardened beneath his touch. She let out a loud moan. His other hand journeyed up the back of her thigh, under her dress. He slipped a finger into her labia, and her back arched. With a heavy breath that was more a gasp, his name escaped her lips, "Peter," followed by another moan. Her back came into contact with the couch as he lost a bit of his control at the sound of his name. He pressed his body firmly into hers, and she rolled her hips up into his. She quickly unbuckled his belt and snaked it out. It landed with a clank on the wooden floor. Her delicate hands unzipped his pants and slipped into his boxers. Olivia gently stroked his erection, causing him to shudder. She pushed his pants down as far as she could with her hands, finishing the task of their removal with her feet. All the while, he'd been placing hungry kisses along her collar bone and down her chest. He sunk his teeth in and sucked an area right above her left breast and she groaned, closing her eyes. However, they flew open as he lifted her off the couch and swiftly carried her to her bed.

He set her down powerfully, and pulled her dress down off her shoulders. It fell silently to the ground as he laid her back onto her bed. She forcefully tugged at his boxers, the last piece of fabric that separated them. He held himself above her and sucked gently on her neck. She shivered beneath him. He stared her straight in the eyes and held her gaze, grinning licentiously as she parted her thighs allowing him in. He could feel she was burning hot as fire and throbbing with desire as he sank slowly into her. She gasped loudly and her body arched involuntarily into his. He ran a hand through her hair and caught her lips with his, thrusting forcefully into her hips. He drew back gently and pushed further into her. He did this several times; however, he did so slowly. She gasped and moaned each time. She shoved her hands into his hair pulling him into a deep kiss. He heard her cry out, "More, Peter, more. Faster, harder! Harder!" She sounded so desperate. He grinned wickedly at her. "Wait," he commanded in a low growl, "wait." She groaned.

Before he knew what had happened, he found himself on his back. She had flipped him and was now grinding her hips vigorously into his. "Olivia," he gasped loudly. "I'm tired of waiting for you, Peter Bishop," she was riding him as fast and hard as her gyrating hips would allow her. "Now," she beckoned, "finish me." She smiled down at him lasciviously, moaning loudly as she rocked him. He could feel she was getting close, and there was no way he was going to let her get herself off on him, at least not this time. He rolled her over so that she was on her back once again, "Hold on." He began thrusting into her with incredible force as he picked up his speed. She wrapped her legs around his waist, arching up to meet each of his thrusts. Her feet caressed his thighs, and her hands traveled up and down his back. She tightly squeezed his ass, pulling him deeper into her. They were both panting roughly. The closer they got, the harder it was to breathe. Peter began moaning loudly and uncontrollably from his core as Olivia was screaming throatily while they climaxed together. After what seemed like an eternity, he collapsed onto her, both breathing heavily.

Peter rolled off of her, lying on his side, propped up on an elbow admiring his handy work. She was glistening with sweat, still trying to catch her breath. "What?" she panted out after she noticed him staring at her with a wry smile gracing his lips. "You're _**really**_ loud, you know that?" he laughed and ran a hand through her damp hair. She breathed, a bit more relaxed. "Yeah, well…" she started, indicating that there was good reason for her decibel. "Yeah?" he breathed out, smiling, obviously proud. She nodded vehemently, biting her lip. There it was, that lascivious grin tugged at the corners of her mouth yet again. She rolled onto her side to face him, and inched closer to him, filling the cavity between them. Olivia leaned up into him, kissing him passionately. She traced a pattern along his jaw line to his earlobe, which she drew into her mouth. She nibbled it softly as she sucked on it. He let out a deep, guttural whimper and she whispered into his ear, "Again." "Give me a minute," he panted out. She kissed her way down his neck and across his collar bone to his shoulder, biting and sucking as her fingers traced patterns up and down his chest. Suddenly, his lips caught hers as he rolled her over to have another go. She let out a pleasure-filled laugh as they consumed each other for the second time that evening. Both realized that they probably wouldn't be sleeping that night.

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**Alright! There you have it! Hope you liked it ;)**

**FIN.**


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